


Broken

by Jojora



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Cheating, Drunk Sex, Future Fic, Heavy Angst, I'll probably update these tags as I figure out how the story unfolds, M/M, married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:58:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7845988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojora/pseuds/Jojora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: Coliver is married and then Oliver sleeps with someone else and how they try to get over it</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know that starting this fic means that I will have 3 fics going at once, and I just started law school again so that's probably a terrible, terrible idea. But as soon as I saw this prompt I just REALLY wanted to write it and I have zero self-control. So here we are.

Oliver had no idea why he did it, or why he even thought it was a good idea to go out in the first place. He had just felt so lonely lately. Connor was hardly ever home now that he had gotten a new boss that worked him almost 70 hours a week. Not to mention the insecurity of knowing that the new boss he was spending all of that time with was absolutely gorgeous and charming and intelligent. Or the fact that Connor never stopped raving about him and all the famous cases he had won. Plus, the copious amounts of alcohol running through Oliver’s veins last night probably didn’t help either.

But he hadn’t intended it. In fact, he had been so drunk that he barely even remembered it. All he could remember was a blur of images and sounds. A hazy image of a guy sitting at the bar. A flash of a random living room. The feeling of a foreign body underneath his. The sound of a man moaning in his ear. 

Oliver loved his husband. And now that he was driving home after waking up in another guy’s bed, he felt like he was going to be sick. What the hell had he done?

He was on the verge of crumbling as he tiptoed into the house that he and Connor shared. The brand new home that they had been so excited to buy last year, with four bedrooms and three bathrooms and a fancy kitchen and a huge backyard. At first Oliver had protested buying it. Just because Connor was working at a huge firm and making an impressive salary didn’t mean they needed something so expensive. And there was no way they would need all that space. But Connor had just smiled at Oliver and put his lips right up to Oliver’s ear and quietly whispered, “We’ll need it for the kids, Ollie.” Oliver had never really thought much about having children until Connor said that, and then suddenly he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Having kids with Connor. Starting a family with Connor. Growing old and watching them grow up with Connor.

Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it again, and how none of it was ever going to happen. 

Oliver closed the front door quietly and snuck up the stairs. He cracked open the door to the master bedroom that he and Connor shared, where Connor was fast asleep, looking completely peaceful under the small amount of early morning light that was just beginning to pour through the window. It felt so wrong. How could he look so happy and calm when Oliver had just ruined everything they had together. 

Oliver backed away from the door. He couldn’t go in there. He didn’t deserve to sleep in that bed anymore. 

He walked down the hallway to a bathroom and turned on the shower. He couldn’t even bare to touch his own skin. Every inch of it felt dirty. He turned on the water and stepped in, hoping that maybe he could scrub this feeling off of him. It was weird to shower in here. He always showered in the master bathroom.

But Oliver stood under the water and he scrubbed and scrubbed until his skin felt raw, and he still couldn’t get himself to feel clean again. He sank to the floor of the tub and he sobbed. It felt like he was being torn in two from the inside. 

He had no idea how long he was in there before he heard a knock on the door. “Ollie?” Connor’s voice called through the door. 

Oliver didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond. He just stayed on the floor of the tub with his head in his knees. The moment a conversation was started would be the moment everything was over and he wasn’t ready for that yet. He didn't know if he would ever be ready for that. 

The door slowly creaked opened and Connor walked in. 

“What’s wrong?” Connor’s voice sounded panicked, and that broke Oliver’s heart even more. Connor was concerned for Oliver. He cared about Oliver and Oliver had forgotten that and had cheated on him. 

Oliver felt Connor’s hand on his shoulder, and then it was quickly pulled away with a gasp. “Fuck!” Connor cursed, immediately shutting off the water. “Oliver, Jesus! That water was practically boiling!”

Oliver hadn’t noticed. He’d felt too numb and too desperate to get clean again to pay any attention.

He felt a dry towel wrapping around his shaking shoulders. It was too soft and too good for Oliver. He didn’t deserve it. 

“C’mon babe,” Connor whispered, trying to pull him up off the bottom of the tub, but Oliver felt like his limbs were too heavy to move and he didn’t want to look up because he didn’t want to see Connor’s face. Instead he just let out another wracked sob. 

A moment later, he felt Connor sitting down in the tub behind him and he was being pulled back into Connor’s chest with strong arms. Oliver simultaneously wanted to pull away from his touch and bury himself into Connor as close as possible and never let go. In a split second decision he twisted and clung to Connor’s shirt, crying into his neck.

“Shh…” Connor coaxed. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Oliver just crumbled even further into him, sobbing and crying until he didn’t have anything left in him. Letting Connor hold him while Connor still didn't know that he was tainted. 

When he couldn't cry anymore, he slowly pulled himself out of Connor’s grasp and started to stand. His legs shook underneath him. He didn't look at Connor, but he knew he was going to have to face this sooner or later.

Connor followed him up with a hand on his arm to keep him steady. Oliver stepped out of the shower and made his way to the bedroom to put some clean clothes on. It didn’t matter. Even after he was dressed, he still felt naked. Exposed and vulnerable.

He finally looked up at Connor, though he still couldn't meet his eyes. Connor was leaning against the door and watching him with a deep look of concern lining his every feature. 

“Connor, I -” Oliver choked out, and then looked away from him again. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to the ground. 

Connor’s brow furrowed. “Sorry for what?”

“I don’t know how it happened. I was so drunk last night and I barely even remember it. Please, you have to know that I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Oliver rambled. 

Connor’s face quickly turned to one of realization, followed almost immediately by a stony and unreadable expression. 

“I love you more than anything Connor. You mean everything to me, and I -” 

“Don’t.” Connor said in a low voice. “Just… stop talking.” 

Oliver fell silent and looked at Connor with pleading eyes, curling his body into itself. Connor brought a hand up and rubbed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath through his nose.

Oliver couldn’t handle the silence. “Please, I - “

“I said stop talking,” Connor hissed. 

Oliver flinched back even further. He knew he deserved it though. 

“I trusted you,” Connor finally said, looking right at Oliver with a piercing gaze. “You were the only one I thought I could trust.”

Oliver didn’t think it was possible for his heart to break any further, but it did. He knew he had just shattered something significant in Connor, because Connor _had_ trusted him. He had laid his whole life in Oliver’s hands when he opened up to Oliver about the things he had been through while working for Annalise. Oliver remembered every detail about that night. How it had led to their engagement. How they had vowed to leave that city and never look back.

He and Connor had made it past so many hurdles. Oliver had been there night after to night to hold Connor through his nightmares and his panic attacks. Later, he had walked him to every single one of his therapy appointments when they finally decided the PTSD was too much to handle alone. And it wasn’t without reciprocation, because Connor had been equally supportive when it came to learning to cope with Oliver’s HIV diagnosis, and he had been unbelievably forgiving with Oliver for Stanford. 

They had made it through everything, gotten married, and had truly become the boring, domesticated couple that at one time seemed like an impossible goal. Their new biggest worries included things like a broken dishwasher and deciding on whether or not they should get a dog.

And now Oliver had ruined it all with one stupid drunken night. 

“Get out.” Connor’s voice was cold.

“Connor,” Oliver pleaded, his voice cracking. 

“I can’t even look at you right now. Get out!” Connor was yelling now, and Oliver quickly scrambled to the door, his heart shattered into a million pieces.


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver didn’t know where to go. He had a few friends in their new hometown, but they were all work friends, not friend friends. Not people that he could count on to take him in after he screwed up everything and ruined his whole life. 

So he drove to a nearby park and wandered around aimlessly for the entire day in a depressed haze. He couldn’t really process anything. When the sun started to set and the air started to chill, he drove himself to a cheap hotel. He considered buying a bottle of cheap vodka to drown out the world around him, but the idea of alcohol made him cringe. He never wanted to drink again after what it had made him do.

Instead he just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept alone in years. He no longer knew how to sleep without Connor’s body next to his. He just laid there feeling completely and utterly empty. 

Then, at a little past 2 in the morning, his phone rang. He jumped at the sound of the vibration and looked over to see Connor’s face flashing on the screen. He scrambled to answer and nearly dropped the phone in the process. 

“Hello?” he asked, his heart racing. 

“You need to come home.” Connor’s voice sounded small and broken. 

“What?” Oliver had to make sure he had heard him correctly, and not just made that up in his desperation. 

“I need you to come back,” Connor said, his voice cracking even more.

Oliver nearly burst into tears at the request. ”Okay, I’m coming,’ he said quickly before hanging up the phone and running out the hotel door.

He raced to the house, nearly crashing his car twice in his haste, not really able to process the fact that Connor was letting him back in, but not wanting to question it and just desperate to see Connor again. 

He opened the door to a dark living room and ran up the stairs towards the light he saw on in the bedroom. But he froze at what he saw when he walked in.

Connor was sitting rigid against the headboard, knees pulled up to his chest, pale and shaking. It was immediately evident that he had had another nightmare, and a whole new wave of guilt tore through Oliver so powerful that he had to close his eyes momentarily. Connor hadn’t had a nightmare in almost a year, so Oliver knew it had to have been the emotional stress that he created that triggered it. 

Connor drew in a sharp breath, staring at the wall in front of him, and he hadn’t even registered that Oliver had walked in. It looked like everything in him was fighting off an oncoming panic attack, which also had not happened in quite some time. 

Oliver’s heart sank as he watched, but he snapped out of his shock and sprung to action, walking over to sit down on the bed and pull Connor gently into his arms. Connor didn’t say anything, he just buried himself in Oliver’s chest, his breathing rapid and uneven. 

Oliver wanted to cry for having caused this, but he knew he had to keep himself calm. He had to keep his breathing slow so that Connor could feel it and match it. He closed his eyes and he ran a hand slowly up and down Connor’s arm, forcing himself to only think about comforting Connor’s hurt and nothing else. 

Slowly, Connor’s breathing regulated and his shaking slowed. He silently pulled away from Oliver, but only for a moment, before he was pulling down the comforter and crawling into it and then pulling at Oliver to lie down with him. Oliver complied, and Connor curled up into him, pulling Oliver’s arm over his body, which was still trembling slightly. 

“Connor,” Oliver started to say quietly, his voice laced with guilt, but Connor interrupted him.

“Ollie, please, just don’t say anything right now,” he said in a quiet desperation. 

Oliver nodded and pulled him in closer, humming softly until he felt Connor slowly drifting to sleep. It took him a lot longer before he could fall asleep himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I literally just updated this, but I couldn't sleep so I wrote another chapter.

When Oliver awoke the next morning, Connor was gone. He had left a note on the bedside table though, and all it said was “We’ll talk when I get back.” 

Oliver figured Connor went to work. After all, the rest of the world didn’t stop just because their own little world was falling apart. But he stared at the note for far too long as a million thoughts raced through his mind. The note gave no indication of anything. It was short and impersonal and gave Oliver absolutely no hints as to what Connor was thinking. Did this mean that Connor wanted them to work things out? That there was still hope of saving their marriage? Or did he want them to sit down and talk about getting a divorce? 

Oliver sat around the house with a massive hole in his stomach. It was too quiet here. The air felt too heavy. The house feel too large and too empty and Oliver felt like he wasn’t supposed to be here. But he wasn’t going to leave for even a moment, because he had no idea what time Connor would be back and he certainly wasn’t going to risk not being here when he arrived. 

He finally heard Connor’s key in the lock early that afternoon, which was a lot earlier than he expected even though it felt like he’d been sitting there alone for eternity. Normally Connor was stuck at work until 7 or 8pm at the earliest these days. 

Oliver’s heart began to race again when he heard it, and he looked up from the couch he was sitting on as the door opened and Connor stepped inside. 

Connor glanced at him briefly before he hung his coat in the closet and toed his shoes off and put his keys in the small bowl near the door. His movements were just as tense as Oliver felt inside.

Oliver watched with nerves overwhelming him as Connor slowly turned in his direction and walked over to sit down on the opposite side of the couch.

“You’re back early,” Oliver said, mostly to fill the silence. 

“Took the afternoon off, said I was sick.” Connor replied quietly. He paused, and then added, “Wasn’t really a lie. I do feel sick.” 

Oliver turned his head away at those words. Connor didn’t sound hostile, just honest, but in a way that made it worse. Oliver would rather be screamed at than see the raw pain that he had caused.

“Who was it with?” Connor asked suddenly in an eerily calm and determined voice. 

It took Oliver a moment to re-engage himself to the conversation, but then he shrugged. “I don’t know,” he choked out. “Just a guy I met in a bar.” 

“What was his name?” 

“I don’t know,” he said again, his voice cracking slightly this time. 

Connor closed his eyes. Oliver couldn’t read his reaction. Couldn’t figure out where this was going or why Connor was asking the questions that were just continuing to hurt them both. He knew he had no leverage in the conversation, but he really just wanted to know what Connor was thinking.

“Why did you do it?” This time, Connor couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice.

Oliver shrugged again, but Connor glared at him. “Don’t do that. There has to be a reason. Tell me why.” 

Oliver didn’t want to. He didn’t want to say that he had cheated because Connor was never around, or because he felt jealous and insecure about Connor’s new boss. They sounded like petty excuses and an attempt to blame Connor, and Oliver knew that he was the only one at fault here. 

“Why does it matter?” he asked instead. 

“It just does,” Connor replied. “I need to know why.” 

“Because I’m scum.” Oliver said quietly. “Because I’m an asshole and an idiot and don’t deserve to be alive.” 

Connor shook his head. “Oliver, please,” he muttered, a desperation to his voice. “Please just answer the question.” 

Oliver sighed. “Because I wasn’t sure if you loved me anymore,” he finally admitted, and saying it out loud forced him to really confront the feeling himself. 

He hadn’t gone to the bar with the intention of cheating, but he had definitely intended to get drunk that night. He had been feeling alone and abandoned and he couldn’t help but wonder if Connor was spending so much time at work because he had only needed Oliver back when his life was in shambles. Maybe now that the dust had finally settled and the nightmares had ended and their lives were boring and simple, he had regretted marrying Oliver. Oliver had felt jealous of Connor’s new boss, not because he was paranoid that anything was happening, but because he felt like if it hadn’t been for the murders and the trauma, that would have been the kind of guy Connor would have ended up with. Someone as attractive and charming and successful as Connor was. Not the shy, awkward IT guy with the thick rimmed glasses and the nervous stutter. 

And after all, they hadn’t had a real conversation in months. The kids that Connor had mentioned when they bought the house were never brought up again. All Connor ever did was work, and when he got home from work he was too tired to go anywhere with Oliver. They had sex still, but not nearly as often as they used to and when they did it had become predictable and vanilla. Oliver had begun to feel like an obligation to Connor, rather than someone that Connor truly desired and loved. So when he had cheated, he had really just been desperately looking for that feeling of being desired again.

Connor clenched his fists a little and then released them as he processed the statement. Then he nodded in acknowledgement. 

“I know I’ve been a little overwhelmed with work lately,” he choked out. “But I had no idea that you were so unhappy.” He looked at Oliver with a bitterness to his gaze. “You never said a word to me about it.” 

Oliver felt a tear roll down his cheek. “Do you regret ending up with someone like me?” he whispered. 

“No.” Connor’s voice was firm, but then it grew quiet. “Unless by ‘someone like you’ you mean someone unfaithful, then I don’t know.” He looked down at the ground. “Maybe.” 

Oliver cringed at that. “I am so sorry, Connor. You have no idea how badly I wish I could take it back.”

Connor was silent for a long moment, still not looking up from the floor. Then he sighed. “I’m sure I do know,” he said sadly. “Probably just as badly as I wish I could take back so many things.”

Oliver tightened his lips. He knew Connor was talking about the murders and even to this day he never knew how to respond on the rare occasions that Connor brought it up. They dealt with the nightmares and the panic attacks and the depression and the therapy, but when it came to the actual reasons behind it all, it was just not something they talked about.

“I’m not ready to let you go,” Connor finally choked out. 

Oliver watched Connor closely while Connor stared out into nothing, lost in thought. He didn’t know what to say or how to react. He knew he should be relieved to hear that, and he was, but he also knew it wasn’t that simple. This wasn’t just going to magically go away, and nothing was really solved by that statement. 

Connor looked back over at him. “I think,” he said slowly, “that we should go somewhere.” 

Oliver frowned. “What do you mean, go somewhere?”

Connor shrugged. “Take a trip. Maybe a cruise.”

“A cruise?” Oliver was incredibly confused by the sudden change in topic. How the hell was going on a cruise going to solve the fact that he was unfaithful? 

“I need…” Connor’s voice broke a little, but he cleared his throat and tried again. “I need a vacation or I’m going to lose my mind. And we need to spend some real time together and figure things out.”

Oliver nodded slowly. “Okay.” 

There was another beat of silence, and then Connor stood up. “I’ll make some arrangements and call work to take time off.”

Then he walked away to the office he had set up in one of the bedrooms, leaving Oliver alone on the couch, filled with nerves and guilt and regret, but also a small amount of hope that was starting to seep through.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been slow on writing lately. School is back in full swing and I'm in the process of moving and life is hectic. But I hope you enjoy!

When Connor had said they were going on a cruise, Oliver hadn’t expected it to be planned for the next day. But here they were, later that night, standing in the airport getting ready to catch a red-eye to Florida and set out for the Caribbean the next afternoon. Connor had made the travel arrangements and then quickly packed their bags, and his eagerness to go was so strong that it made Oliver slightly uncomfortable.

Connor was also being far too nice to Oliver. He had taken Oliver to dinner before they left for the airport, at an expensive Italian restaurant, and then insisted on carrying Oliver’s luggage as they walked to the gate. Maybe he was trying to make amends for making Oliver feel unloved, or maybe he was insecure about being cheated on and was trying to prove something to himself, or maybe it was some sort of mind game. Whatever it was though, all it did was make Oliver’s already overwhelming guilt and shame gnaw at his insides even more. He was in no position to turn any of it down, but he desperately wished Connor would stop.

They didn’t talk about the cheating beyond the conversation they’d had on the couch. Instead their conversations were filled with small talk about things like an article Connor had read about some new health fad, and gossip about their neighbors, and discussing a new movie Connor wanted to go see. Connor was being very controlling over the conversation and carefully and obviously avoiding anything of substance.

The flight boarded. Connor had gotten them first class seats, which were practically beds, and Connor fell asleep shortly after they took off. Oliver stayed awake for a lot longer though, his thoughts in overdrive at how strange this all was. 

Then they arrived in the Florida airport, grabbed some breakfast, and hailed a taxi to the port where the cruise would depart from. After waiting around for awhile, they were allowed onto the ship. They went to their cabin, which was small but ridiculously fancy, and Oliver started to wonder just how much money Connor had spent on this. Normally large financial decisions were something they discussed together, but Oliver didn’t feel like he had the right to say anything at the moment. 

“Are you hungry? Do you think we should check out the restaurant for lunch or just wait and have an early dinner?” Connor asked eagerly as he started unpacking their things into the dresser. 

Oliver shrugged. “I’m not really hungry.” 

“Okay. Do you want to explore the boat? We should look at the show schedule, too. I think there’s also a wine tasting event tomorrow night.”

“Whatever you want to do is fine.” Oliver’s response was not nearly as enthusiastic as Connor was acting. He was tired of pretending when everything just felt so wrong and broken.

Connor looked over at Oliver at his sad tone, but instead of acknowledging it, it only seemed to make him try even harder at forcing normality and avoiding the issues. “There’s a movie theater on board, we should go see what’s playing,” he said in his too-excited tone as he headed for the door. Oliver nodded numbly and followed behind. 

Things went like that for the entire first day. Connor seemed completely determined to act like nothing had happened and that this spontaneous cruise they were on was completely normal. Oliver half-heartedly followed him around and listened to his rambling and Connor blatantly ignored his lack of enthusiasm. It was psychological torture that just left Oliver quietly drowning in his own guilt and shame, and at this point, Oliver started to think that Connor knew exactly what he was doing.

It wasn’t until they were getting ready to go to bed that night that Connor showed any hint of genuine emotion. Oliver had just come out of the bathroom to find Connor sitting in bed looking at him. 

“You’re not having fun,” Connor muttered as Oliver got into the other side of the bed, and the way in which he said it was accusing, but it also almost sounded timid and vulnerable.

Oliver looked at him and sighed. “Connor, this is all extravagant and amazing.” 

“But you’re not having fun,” Connor repeated. “You don’t want to be here.” 

“Yes I do. I want to be here. I just… I thought this was about figuring us out, not pretending nothing is wrong.” Oliver reached out and tentatively grabbed Connor’s hand. “I miss you,” he admitted.

Connor looked down at their hands and then back up at Oliver, but he didn’t say anything. 

Oliver rubbed his thumb over Connor’s. He tentatively brought his other hand to Connor’s cheek, and Connor leaned into the touch, still watching Oliver hesitantly. Oliver leaned in and kissed Connor, and Connor kissed back at first, but then he suddenly tensed and pulled away. 

“We should sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow,” Connor said, turning to flick off the lamp and then getting under the covers. 

Oliver stayed frozen for a minute before he slowly got under the blanket too, and then he turned his back to Connor as he silently cried. 

Connor no longer wanted him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I've been terrible at writing lately. Law school is all-consuming. But I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

The next day proceeded similar to the one before, with Connor’s slightly manic over-excitement back in full force as they explored the activities on the boat. Oliver didn’t even feign excitement this time. He just dragged behind Connor and barely said anything as Connor chatted about mundane things as though they were the greatest things imaginable. Oliver could tell that Connor was getting annoyed by his lack of engagement but it seemed as though the less enthusiastic Oliver was, the harder Connor tried to ignore it.

Then they got to the evening wine-tasting, and things quickly spiraled out of control. Oliver had turned down the idea of actually having any wine, still completely repelled by the idea of alcohol, and Connor finally snapped and seemed to take it very personally. The thick tension between them that Connor had been ignoring was finally breaking through and things escalated very, very quickly. 

“I paid for two tickets to this, Oliver. I didn’t spend all that money so that you could drink water,” Connor said in a harsh and angry whisper across their small table.

“How much money is ‘all that money?’” Oliver retorted, completely fed up with being passively dragged through Connor’s craziness. “Just how much of our savings account did you spend on this cruise?” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were going to put a price cap on our marriage,” Connor hissed. Then his voice grew cold. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve already proven that you don’t value it that much.” 

Oliver swallowed at those words and looked away. He’d already felt on the edge of cracking all day, but that felt like he had just been slapped hard across the face, with a whole new wave of self-hatred crashing down on him. He drew a shaky breath and crossed his arms tightly across his stomach, and then suddenly stood up and ran out, not even able to look at Connor as he fled. He was two seconds away from falling apart and refused to do so in a room full of strangers. 

He ran to their cabin and collapsed onto the bed with a sob. His heart was shattering again, and everything felt too broken. There was no way they were going to be able to get past this.

Connor showed up at their cabin half an hour later, and when he walked in his whole demeanor had changed. He didn’t have his mask of happiness on, and he didn’t look angry either. He just looked completely emotionally exhausted. 

Oliver was sitting in the bed and he only glanced up at him briefly as he entered, before he went back to staring at his hands. He knew his eyes were still red and swollen from crying and even now he was barely holding himself together, and he didn’t really want Connor to see it or have any more vulnerability to use against him.

Suddenly being trapped on a boat in the middle of the ocean with Connor felt like one of the worst ideas he’d ever agreed to, because he honestly didn’t think he could handle any more of this. He would prefer that Connor would just ask for a divorce than continue to string him through this torture of subtly making him feel disgusting and unworthy while pretending they were just fine. But they were stuck in this tiny cabin together, so Oliver knew they had to find a way to tolerate each other at least until they could get off the boat.

“How was the wine?” he asked quietly. 

Connor sat down next to him, and Oliver could feel his gaze on him even though he refused to look back up. “I don’t know, I left. Wandered around the boat for a bit,” Connor replied, and his voice sounded hesitant, as though he could see how fragile Oliver felt and was afraid of breaking him. 

Oliver nodded, and his lip trembled as he tried to fight back more tears that were threatening to fall.

“Ollie, I’m sorry. That wasn’t a fair thing to say,” Connor whispered. 

“No, I deserved it.” Oliver muttered, bringing his hand up to wipe his eyes because despite his best efforts he was crying again. 

“Maybe.” Connor said slowly. “But I know it’s not true.” He reached out and softly cupped Oliver’s jaw, urging Oliver to look up at him, which Oliver finally did reluctantly. “I know you want to fix this as much as I do.” 

Oliver drew a shaky breath as even more tears fell, and he just wanted to curl up in a ball and crumble. He hated himself and he didn’t think he would ever be able to stop hating himself.

“Why are you doing this?” Oliver croaked out. “I’m not worth it.” 

Connor shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much I need you,” he said sadly. “How much you’ve kept me from just giving up on life.” 

“Connor…” Oliver had prepared a whole speech on how it was time for them to just accept reality and let go, but he suddenly couldn’t say any of it, so he just trailed off into silence.

“No, listen. I know nothing about being with me has ever been easy. Nobody would have blamed you for leaving rather than dealing with all of my baggage, yet you were never anything but patient and understanding and forgiving. I started to take it all for granted. Started to take you for granted.” He sounded like he was choking back his own tears now. “Maybe this was just my wakeup call.” 

Oliver looked down again. 

“We’re going to be okay, Oliver. I don’t care how much we have to fight for it. I promise we’re going to be okay,” Connor said determinedly. 

Oliver didn’t know if he could believe Connor. Things had gotten too screwed up to be able to think they could just go back to the way they were before. After all, Connor might feel guilty for finally pushing Oliver over the edge, but that didn’t change the situation. They might still care for each other, but something vital had been broken between them.

But Oliver nodded nonetheless, because even if he seriously doubted it, he still desperately wanted to believe it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was excruciatingly sad to write. So let me know if it makes you feel the same feels it made me feel.

They didn’t talk any further that night, and early the next morning Connor woke up and eagerly got dressed as he suggested that they check out the ship’s spa. But Oliver refused to get out of bed. He didn’t feel up to another day of playing pretend with Connor, and he didn’t know if he should be more angry at Connor for doing this again or at himself for falling for last night’s bullshit and getting his hopes that they would actually confront their issues and make efforts towards working things out.

“Come on, it sounds really relaxing,” Connor said in that annoyingly bright tone.

“You can go,” Oliver muttered, not even bothering to turn around or look at Connor.

Connor started to pull the blanket off of Oliver, clearly ignoring Oliver’s protest. “You’ll feel less hostile after the massage,” he teased. 

“Damnit, I said no!” Oliver snapped, pulling the blanket back up over him and closing his eyes to try and quell the sudden wave of anger coursing through his veins. 

Connor fell silent at the outburst, and everything was suddenly tense and still for a moment. Then Oliver felt Connor slowly get back under the covers, and Connor’s arm snaked under Oliver’s to pull him close. 

Oliver tensed at the sudden contact. They had slept back to back again last night, and other than the kiss that Connor had abruptly pulled away from, this was the most physical affection they’d had since this whole mess started. He wanted to melt into it, because Connor felt warm and familiar, but he was too scared to give in and then lose it again.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asked bitterly.

“Going back to bed,” Connor murmured into the back of his neck. 

Oliver shook his head and rolled backwards, forcing Connor onto his back as well. Then he sat up. He wasn’t going to do this anymore. Maybe he should just grateful for the affection Connor was giving, but Oliver was determined to force them to have a real conversation.

Connor sat up too, and Oliver could feel Connor watching him again.

“I need you to stop,” Oliver said with all the firmness he could muster, though it wavered slightly. Connor looked shocked and hurt, but Oliver refused to back down. “We have to talk, Connor. I can’t keep playing this game.”

Connor shifted uncomfortably. “Talk about what?”

“Everything!” Oliver hissed.

“We talked last night, didn’t we?” A slight edge of annoyance was creeping into Connor’s tone. 

“Not really. You taking pity on me because you made me cry doesn’t count as a conversation.”

The room was silent for a moment as they stared at each other in a silent face off. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Connor finally said, exasperated. 

“Anything. Tell me what you’re thinking. Yell at me! Just stop pretending everything is fine and do something to give me some indication of where your head is and what - ”

Oliver’s eyes widened as he was interrupted by Connor’s lips pressed roughly against his own and Connor’s fingers digging into his arms. Oliver instinctively opened his lips to give Connor access and Connor pushed himself even further into Oliver. It was harsh and desperate and the way Connor was holding onto Oliver was mildly painful. Then a split second later Connor pushed Oliver away and his face turned stony.

“I’m going to the spa.” Connor said flatly, before getting up and walking out of their room.

Oliver just sat there, breathless and stunned. That was an expression of emotion, that was for sure, but Oliver had no idea what it meant. His upper arms were searing from the strength of Connor’s grip though, and he absentmindedly rubbed his skin before rolling out of bed.

Oliver wasn’t sure what to do now, and he debated trying to find Connor, but then decided that space was a better option and elected to spend the day on his own. He ventured to one of the restaurants for food before deciding he wasn’t hungry and deciding to just walk around and try to process everything that had been happening. 

He got so lost in his own head that he didn’t realize how fast the day went until the air around him started to chill. He was sitting on an upper deck in one of the quieter areas of the ship and looked around to see that most people had left, probably to go get dinner or participate in the ship’s evening activities.

He knew he should try and find Connor, but if he was being honest, the break from the tension and emotional turmoil that existed whenever they were around each other had been a huge relief and he wasn’t sure he was ready to face all of that again. 

So instead he went to the ship’s movie theater and bought himself a ticket to a random movie, eager for the warmth of the indoors without having to go back to his cabin just yet.

When he emerged a couple of hours later, the sun had set and the ship was even emptier than before, with all of the families with children probably already in bed. Reluctantly, Oliver finally made his way back to his cabin.

Connor was already curled up in bed, and Oliver quietly made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. He wanted to avoid waking Connor up if possible, but when he started to get into his side of the bed, Connor stirred. 

“Hey,” Connor mumbled as he rolled over to look at Oliver, who was sitting up against the headboard.

“Hey,” Oliver whispered back, looking down at his own hands. 

“You missed out on a seriously great massage today.” 

Oliver’s lips curled up in a small, tentative smile. “Yeah? Did it make you less hostile?” he joked in reference to Connor’s teasing this morning, although they both knew there was a serious undertone to the comment.

Connor smiled back as he shifted and propped himself up on the pillow, but then he tensed. “Oh my god...” he uttered, and his voice sounded strangled and broken. 

Oliver frowned at his sudden shift in demeanor. “What?”

Connor reached up and ran a gentle thumb across Oliver’s upper arm, and Oliver looked down and was shocked to see multiple bruises that had formed where Connor had grabbed him this morning. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered.

Oliver pulled his arm back and shook his head. He knew that this wasn’t nearly as dramatic as Connor was making it out to be, since Oliver had been bruising incredibly easily for awhile now. It was a side effect of his T-cell count dropping a while back when one of his medications had stopped working. Luckily, the doctors had found another medication that seemed to work, and his count had been increasing steadily, but that particular symptom was taking the longest to disappear. 

“It’s fine,” Oliver mumbled. 

Connor sat up and looked at Oliver with hesitation before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

Oliver nodded. 

“Did you…” Connor paused and took a breath, “Were you safe?”

Oliver suddenly felt like all the air had been knocked out of him. He hadn’t been prepared for that question, and in all this turmoil he actually hadn’t thought about it. But of course, the fact that his body was adjusting to a new medication meant that he also had a higher chance of transmitting the infection to people who weren’t on PrEP and a whole new level of fear and guilt washed over Oliver when he realized he didn’t actually know the answer.

“Oliver?” Connor asked, and Oliver slowly focused back on Connor. “I asked if you - ”

“I don’t know,” Oliver mumbled. “I - I can’t remember.” 

Connor closed his eyes and nodded. Then he wordlessly laid back down with his back to Oliver, signaling that their conversation was over.

Oliver laid down too, but his brain was buzzing with this new development and tears started to form in his eyes. He suddenly couldn’t stop wondering if he had possibly infected someone else. He would never be able to live with himself. Despite his best efforts to remain still and quiet, he let out a small, choked sob. 

Almost immediately he felt Connor roll over again, and then there was a hand in his hair. “Ollie, don’t,” he pleaded softly.

But Oliver shook his head. “I ruined everything,” he choked out. “I ruined our marriage, and I probably ruined someone’s life. I hate myself.” 

Connor exhaled a shaky breath and then curled his body around Oliver’s, wrapping an arm firmly around his chest. He didn’t say anything else, he just held Oliver as Oliver cried.


	7. Chapter 7

Oliver woke the next morning with the wary anticipation of more of Connor’s ridiculous unrealistic antics. But to his surprise, when he rolled over, he realized Connor was not in the cabin. Remembering the realization from last night made his heart sink. Being alone in the cabin with that thought made his stomach feel uneasy. He wanted to blame it on sea-sickness, but he knew it was so much more than that.

Part of him wanted to curl up further under his covers and not come out, but a bigger part of him was unwilling to sit in this cabin alone with these thoughts running through his head. Begrudgingly, he got up and dragged himself to the shower, trying not to think about how much he hated his own body at the moment. Trying not to look at the bruises on his arm that reminded him of how he could have ruined another man’s life. Trying to focus on nothing except the task of cleansing himself, as if that were possible.

He wanted to be mad at Connor for just leaving him there, but he didn’t have it in him. He didn’t really blame him. Oliver didn’t want to face himself, either.

After getting dressed, Oliver wandered over to the breakfast buffet, but he had no appetite. He considered getting a cup of coffee, but already felt so on edge that the caffeine would not do him any favors. Instead he walked back out, empty-handed, and wandered around. He absolutely hated the fact that he was stuck on a boat right now. It was driving him absolutely crazy. He wanted to be back on dry land. Back at home. Back at work. At least then he would have something to do to keep his mind occupied. Instead he was just drowning in his own thoughts with nowhere to escape to.

Boy, he really didn’t feel good. Maybe there was some sea-sickness behind his uneasy stomach after all. Sighing, he turned around to go back to his cabin. He felt trapped either way, so he might as well be trapped away from people and in the comfort of a bed.

When he arrived back to the room, he was surprised to find Connor sitting on the edge of the bed, nervously wringing his hands. 

“Oh thank god,” Connor sighed as Oliver cautiously walked into the room. “Where were you?” he asked, his voice agitated.

Oliver frowned. As he remembered it, Connor had been the one to leave the room first. But he didn’t feel up to fighting about it, so he just shrugged.

“Sorry,” he muttered, climbing into the bed and curling up on his side, trying to calm the nausea.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked, his voice softening.

Oliver closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“Ollie, hey,” Connor breathed, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry I brought it up. Please don’t do this to yourself.” 

“It’s not that,” Oliver mumbled, before opening his eyes. “I mean, it is. But I just don’t feel great.”

Connor’s brow furrowed into a worried frown as he moved his hand to Oliver’s forehead. Oliver groaned and pulled away. 

“I’m fine. Really.” He knew Connor was suddenly very freaked out. Ever since the scare when his meds stopped working, even the slightest mention of Oliver feeling ill in any way made Connor overreact. 

“I’m an idiot. I should never have taken us on a cruise. What was I thinking? Sticking us on a boat with a bunch of strangers and their germs. Your t-cells are still not completely back to normal and here I am dragging you out into the middle of the ocean,” Connor rambled.

“Connor, I’m fine,” Oliver urged. “Really. It’s just stress.”

“I want to take you to the doctor onboard,” Connor continued.

“Connor, please,” Oliver was getting agitated.

“We need to make sure your meds are still working and that you haven’t caught an infection.”

“Connor!” Oliver’s voice was raised this time as he sat up. “Stop! I don’t need you to keep reminding me about my HIV. Believe me, I am well aware of it right now.”

Connor grew quiet for a moment. “I think we should get off at the first port and fly home,” he finally said, and his tone was indecipherable.

Oliver wasn’t sure if Connor was saying this because he was still worried about Oliver’s health, or if it was a need to get away from Oliver, but he was not about to disagree. Being stuck on this cruise ship was absolute hell.


End file.
